


Look me in my eyes, tell me everything's alright

by Multifandom_damnation



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Babysitting, Brotherly Affection, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Dialogue Heavy, Family Dynamics, Fatherhood, Gen, Good Sibling Lip Gallagher, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Late Night Conversations, Protective Ian Gallagher
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29599428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multifandom_damnation/pseuds/Multifandom_damnation
Summary: It's nice to know that through prison sentences and expulsions and diagnosis's and alcoholism and marriage and fatherhood that Lip and Ian will always have each other, through thick and thin. It just does well to remind them of that.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Lip Gallagher
Kudos: 25





	Look me in my eyes, tell me everything's alright

**Author's Note:**

> I know that some people thought my characterisation of Mickey in the last fic I wrote was a little off (and rightfully so, considering I've never seen it!) so I didn't include him in this, because he's hard haha. I promise you I've got one more thing to get off my mind before I stop butchering this charismatic show, but until then, you're just going to have to put up with my shitty fics. Anyway, I hope you like this one! I'm very proud of it. I hope the dialogue isn't too abrupt or jumpy and that it's not too hard to read.

When Lip woke up and made his way to the bathroom very early one day, his phone said it was almost four in the morning, and he almost went back to sleep right then and there. But he heaved himself up, detached himself from Tami's side and crawled through the halls, barefoot and bleary-eyed until he reached his destination. 

On his way back towards the warm comfort of his bed, Lip took a detour to Freddy's crib to see how he was holding up on this outstandingly chilly night, only to nearly have his feet knocked out from under him when he realized that Freddy was nowhere to be seen. His blankets were mused, his soft toys tossed about, the crib looking almost exactly as Lip had left it when he put him to sleep, only Freddy was not there.

Grabbing onto the edges of the crib, Lip tried not to freak out when he honestly just wanted to scream, or maybe throw up, or maybe both. He thought about waking up Tami, but what did he tell her? That their son was _missing_? Maybe he could wake up Debbie, or Carl, or Liam, and beg them to help him search every nook-and-cranny of their house. He had a frightening thought that perhaps Frank had done it, had come into their room while they were sleeping and taken Freddy from his crib for some far-fetched, drug-induced adventure-

The ringing faded from his ears and he was suddenly aware of faint sounds from downstairs. Coloured light shifted and bounced off the walls on the staircase as Lip tentatively made his way down them. He was met by the sight of Ian seated on the couch, a cartoon playing softly on the TV and Freddy sleeping soundly in his cradle as Ian rocked it with his foot. 

He let out a shaky breath he hadn't known he was holding, the stress leaving his body through his extremities, his pounding heartbeat slowing to its regular pace. Ian glanced up at the sound, swinging his arm over the back of the couch to look at him fully. He had a twinkle in his eye, a small smile on his face as he looked him over. "You look like shit,"

"Thanks," Lip managed as he trotted down the rest of the steps to join Ian in the lounge room. Freddy made a noise in his sleep and Lip smiled at him in his cradle. "There you are, buddy."

"I couldn't sleep, so when I heard him crying, I brought him down here so you and Tami could sleep in a little longer," Ian explained gently, not pausing in his gentle rocking. "I hope I didn't scare you."

"Scare me? Nah, man," Lip joined Ian on the couch. "You only made my heart fall out through my asshole."

Chuckling, Ian looked back to the front and to the cartoon playing on the TV. "There's coffee," he said. "It's fresh but might be a little cold by now."

"Thanks," Lip said, but made no move to get up. He elbowed Ian in the side. "Can't sleep, huh?"

Shaking his head, Ian took a sip of his beer, eyes on the cartoon. "Mickey's out," he explained. "He said he'd be back by one, but he hasn't come home yet. I'm too anxious to sleep. I know he can take care of himself, but sometimes I worry he takes things too far. And with us on probation, I'd rather be with him so I can side with him if something happens. I can't do jack shit if I don't know where he is."

"I'm sure he's fine," Lip said. Ian seemed to agree since he wasn't shaking out of his skin yet. Lip returned his attention to Freddy, who yawned and turned over in his sleep, buried in a blanket that had been carefully wrapped around him, rocking peacefully. "I didn't know you were so good with babies."

"Yeah, I got pretty good with Yev," Ian said, and Lip thought he heard something else there, something heavy, something regretful, and Lip turned to face him. Ian was watching Freddy with a tilted head and a small smile. "Everyone else was busy, or didn't care, so I sort of became his primary carer, when his mother was working, you know? And I actually enjoyed it. And a part of me kind of felt sorry for the kid. His father didn't want anything to do with him or at least tried to pretend he didn't, and his mother was an illegal prostitute who had to do whatever she could to survive, and he was only born because they both forced to fuck at gunpoint by Mick's father. I wanted him to feel loved despite that, and I loved Mickey, so it wasn't very hard to love Yev to. And I really did love him," he gestured weakly, made a harsh sound in the back of his throat. "I miss him. But... you know."

Lip did know, and he hated that he knew, especially as intimately as he did. "Have you ever thought about looking for him?" he asked. "Reaching out? I don't know if he would still remember you, but I'm sure it would be great to see him again. Especially after how you left things off."

"I've thought about it," Ian admitted. "But Mickey has made it pretty clear that he doesn't want anything to do with the kid, so I've let it go. But his mother loves him, and she'll take care of him. Besides, I've already got one Milkovich to worry about and let me tell you, one is more than enough."

They laughed then, and it thankfully coincided with a surge in sound from the cartoon, and Freddy didn't budge, other than to nestle deeper into his blankets. "I would have liked to have seen you with a little bub on your shoulder."

"You should have come around to Mickey's more often," Ian offered lightly, but Lip could feel the weight of his words, even if Ian didn't mean for them to carry it. "Anyway. That was a long time ago. I'm just glad that you and Debbie have given me my own niece and nephew to dote on."

"Yeah, they love their uncle," Lip said, leaning back and smiling at Ian. Ian had this big, goofy grin on his face that Lip loved. Colours danced on his face from the light of the TV, and just for a moment, it made him look younger. If he squinted, he could almost imagine that they were 15 again, sitting on Ian's bed in the dark of night, sharing a cigarette between them and laughing until the sun came up. But that was a long time ago- before diagnoses and prison and weddings and alcoholism and expulsions and babies. A lifetime ago, really, so long ago that Lip was surprised he could still remember it.

In his contemplation, he hadn't realized that he had fallen silent, staring at the side of Ian's head, stuck in the memory of long ago. Ian turned to him as if sensing Lip's gaze boring holes into the side of his head, and he raised a kindly eyebrow. "What the hell are you looking at?"

His abrasiveness made Lip laugh. "Just you," he said, smacking Ian in the side. "You grew up big."

"Someone had to," Ian said. "I wasn't about to be pushed around like you little twerps."

"Hey, what happened to respecting your elders, jackass?" Lip shoved Ian, and with a grin, Ian pushed him back. Not hard though, not at the risk of jostling Freddy who he was still rocking gently with his foot, but hard enough to manhandle Lip to the other side of the couch and keep him there with one hand. When Lip started slapping at his hand, Ian dropped his arm with a snort and Lip rocked back into his spot. "No, but really, you got _big_. I don't know if it was West Point or prison or fucking _what_ , but you're god damn _huge_. Like, I remember when you used to let Frank walk all over you, even when he would beat you and knock you around, you would never stand up to him. I don't know if you were scared of him or what, but you just... let him do it. You were a beanpole back then, you know, with those stupid bangs and those big dopey eyes. The kids at school thought you were an easy target, and they were fucking right. But now you've fucking _grown_ , more than the rest of us, and I honestly think that Frank is a little bit afraid of you."

"Good," Ian said venomously. "He should be fucking scared. I'm done taking any of his shit. He's put us through a living hell, and I'm sick and fucking tired of him taking his bullshit out on any of us."

"Yeah, between you and Mick, I think you've got his asshole clenching every time you're in the same house as him," Lip laughed. Ian smirked, and Lip wondered what he was thinking of. With a grunt, he reached forward and plucked the packet of cigarettes off of the coffee table, and shook one out onto his hand. He glanced to Ian, who had returned his attention back to the TV. "You got a...?"

"Light? Yeah," Ian dug through his pockets as Lip put the smoke between his teeth and produced a shirt yellow lighter. He held it up and the cigarette began to smoulder under Lip's nose. He handed the packet back to Ian, who finished his beer and placed the empty bottle and the pack of cigarettes back on the coffee table. "It's a good thing I put on a little bit of size. It's probably the only thing I got going for me."

There was something in Ian's tone that made Lip pause, but he hid his hesitation behind a smile. "Oi, fucker, you better not be talking about your bipolar disorder and meds again," he passed Ian his cigarette and Ian took it gladly. "Because if you are, I'm going to have no choice but to kick your ass."

Smiling, Ian tipped his head back until it could rest on the back of the couch and let his healthy drag of smoke settle in his lungs before he blew it out through thinly-parted lips. "Kiss it, you mean, but I'd like to see you try. Like you said, I got big. I wouldn't want you to strain yourself just trying to prove a point."

Rolling his eyes, Lip manoeuvered on his couch so his back was against the armrest and his legs were resting over Ian's lap. "No fucking respect I tell you," he teased. He could see Ian's eyes roll beneath his lids. "But I'm being serious, man. I know you've had a lot of angst with it in the past and you've been through some rough patches- rougher than the rest of us at times- but I really thought that you were feeling better about all that. Come to terms with it at the very least."

He watched Ian carefully through the haze of drifting cigarette smoke. "I have," he said after a long moment. "I take my meds every day. I keep away from stressful situations if I can help it. I keep my head down. I go see my shrink when I'm summoned and I go to the clinic when I think my meds are fucking me over. I haven't had an episode in months, depressive _or_ manic. Things have been good here, good with Mickey. He's been helping me keep my head on straight as much as I've been helping him. It's good."

Frowning, Lip looked him up and down. "So... what are you trying to say? Have you got a problem with being bipolar or not?"

"I'll always have a problem with being bipolar," Ian admitted. "It's just easier now. And besides, no matter how much I fucking hate it, it makes me feel closer to her, you know?"

"Uh," Lip asked. "To who?"

"To mum," Ian said easily, and Lip felt like the ground was falling out from under him, opening into a wide, toothy maw ready to swallow him whole. "Monica. Is it fucked up that I actually really miss her? Like, not just in a general sense, but she wasn't even at my fucking _wedding_ , Lip. The only person in this fucked-up family of ours who made sure I knew that I deserved to have happiness wasn't even there to actually see me get it. How fucked up is that?"

Reeling back like he was slapped, Lip took a moment to catch his breath. he felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He was very aware of Ian watching him, trying to gauge his reaction, but he was a little too tired to care. "I mean, kind of? But you've always had a big heart. It makes sense that you'd be able to forgive her. Debbie loved Frank, you loved Monica. Whatever floats your boat, you know." He tried not to be hurt at the backhanded comment that Ian probably didn't even mean to make.

"Yeah, I guess," Ian reached a hand up, scratched at the back of his neck. He glanced back down to Freddy, sleeping soundly as if he couldn't bear to meet Lip's gaze. Lip watched him closely, trying to figure out what he was going to say next. "I uh, I've been thinking about that time that you all had to testify for my insanity so I couldn't get court marshalled," he had a wry, ironic smile on his face. "Mickey said something the other day that made me remember it. Debbie called me crazy. You told them all about how I stole Yev. Fiona said that I couldn't look after myself."

Lip did remember it- seated around that table in that suffocating room, guards at attention by the door, Ian sat at the end of the table away from everyone else, Mickey silent with his leg pressed against Ian's under the table while the others were forced to say horrible, untrue things about the person they loved just to ensure his safety. "You know we didn't have a choice, right? We-"

He didn't get a chance to finish. Ian shook his head. "Yeah, I know, I know. I get it? But it really hurt at the time," he shrugged. "Monica may have been a bad influence and taught me a lot of bad ways to cope, but she told me something that I still think about sometimes. Whenever I look back on that time in my life, it's the one thing that keeps coming back to me. She said, 'nobody can fix you, because you're not broken.' And that meant a lot to me, you know? It was something I really needed to hear at a time when everyone was trying to find ways to reverse it and fix me and make me feel better when I was just ready to give up."

Taking a deep, calming drag from the cigarette between his fingers, the smoke collecting on the ceiling, Lip prodded Ian's side with his toes. "I didn't know she said that to you," he said eventually. "She was a crazy bitch, but she really was the only one who has ever really understood you and what you're dealing with. It's no wonder you miss her."

"Yeah," Ian said, happily taking the offered cigarette from Lip's outstretched hand. "I guess when you put it like that."

They fell into a lull of comfortable silence, passing a cigarette between them like they were kids again, sharing all their secrets and laughing in the darkness. He almost expected Fiona to come stomping down those stairs with a babbling Liam in her arms, telling them to go to bed. But Fiona was gone, and Liam was no longer the baby of the family. 

No, that was Fred, now, his little Freddy, who was making wet noises in his sleep as Ian idly rocked him back and forth with his eyes transfixed on the cartoon. Fred was absolutely Lip's little bundle of joy, his new lease on life. He hadn't touched a bottle for over a week for him, and he didn't regret it for a moment. He always tried so god damn hard to make sure Freddy knew he was loved and cared for, loved like he never was, not by Frank anyway, and not grabbing a beer from the fridge every time he felt the urge was a small price to pay.

But there was always this little voice in the back of his head, this nagging worry that had been tugging at his gut that warned him that this perfect moment was never going to last, that no matter how hard he tried, he was always destined to end up like Frank, an alcoholic asshole, a fucked-up father, a deadbeat dad, and that the roles would be reversed, no matter how much he tried to change it. It was a sensation he just couldn't shake. A very real fear that weeded it's way into his dreams and pulsed behind his eyelids.

Ian, his overly perceptive brother, noticed him staring at Freddy with a strained, teary look on his face and gently ran his blunt nail along the underside of Lip's bare foot, making him jerk and yanking him from his thoughts. "Hey," he said, his voice uncommonly soft, understanding. "I know what you're thinking. Don't."

Snorting, Lip dragged his feet away from Ian's reach and pulled them to his chest. "Oh yeah, did prison give you mind-reading as well as bad incarceration jokes?"

"Hey, Carl and Franny like my bad incarceration jokes," Ian protested, but he was smiling. "But I _do_ know what you're thinking because I used to think about the same thing with Monica. You're worried that you're going to turn out like Frank, that because you share his genes you're going to screw up with your kid just like he screwed up with his. But I'm telling you right now, Lip, you're _nothing_ like Frank."

"I wish I could be as sure as you," Lip sighed. He was suddenly very, very tired. "But sometimes I look in the mirror and I just see Frank looking back at me, you know? Freddy... he deserves the world. Maybe he deserves more than me, I don't know, but I _do_ know that I can't be like that. I can't... I have to be there for him. _I've_ got to be the one to teach him how to shave and how to drive and how to tie a tie. Not some other scumbag that comes into his life because his dad is drunk in the gutter somewhere. It's got to be _me_." 

When he had finished with a deep, stuttering breath, Ian reached out a hand and rested it lightly on Lip's knee. The weight and warmth were grounding and familiar. "I know that we haven't exactly been around the best role models," he said gently. "But I'm telling you right now, Lip- you're going to be a great father. Don't laugh, I mean it. I see you with him, sometimes, and it's like all the pieces of a puzzle have finally come together. You were always meant to be a dad. And you're going to be a great one. Freddy is lucky to have you as his father, even if you are a huge pain in the ass."

Lip stared at him, _really_ stared at him. There was something heavy in his eyes, a deep pool of understanding and trust and love that Lip could hardly comprehend but had seen many times before in his life. It meant more to him than the words left unsaid, reading between the lines. "Thanks," he managed, voice thick. "I appreciate it." And then, just to ruin the mood, he cleared his throat. "Did you rehearse that little speech or...?"

Snorting, Ian pulled away. "I was being sincere, jackass," he laughed. He grinned at Lip, running a hand through his hair, sending the usually neat and tidy strands askew. "I think I'm going to go. I'm tired. Mick can make his own damn way to bed," he glared at Lip when he sniggered before his gaze softened. "Do you need a hug?"

If the offer wasn't genuine, Lip would have rolled his eyes. "Nah, I'm fine," he said "Thanks, Ian."

Shrugging, Ian stood, stretching his arms above his head and grunting at the feeling of his released muscles. He wiggled his fingers at Fred. "Have fun you two," he said as he turned away and made his way up the stairs back to the bed he shared with Mickey, leaving Lip alone in the lounge room with the cartoon and his sleeping baby boy.

Upstairs, Ian's bedroom door shut quietly. Lip stared at Freddy- his eyes were closed peacefully, his hands fisted in the blankets, his mouth partially open and drool glistening on his chin. He was the most amazing thing that Lip had ever seen. His skin was smooth and his eyes were bright and the sound of his babbling was like music to Lip's ears.

There was a commercial on the TV, and Lip glanced at the ad for wheelbarrows to take a final drag from his cigarette before he put it out in the ashtray and reached for Freddy. He scooped him up from his cradle, Freddy yawning and cooing at the sudden movement but he remained asleep. Lip rested him against his chest as he stretched out on the couch.

"Hey buddy," he mouthed on Freddy's crown and the faint dusting of hair there. "How's my little man going, hm?"

Expectantly, Freddy didn't answer, but he did drool on Lip's chest, but he didn't mind. He got comfortable against the couch, situated against the cushions. He had to get up in a couple of hours anyway. He might as well stay up now. And he couldn't think of anyone he would rather spend it with than his favourite person in the world.

With Freddy a comforting weight against him and Ian's kind, sage words rattling around in his head, Lip fell asleep, and it was the best god damn sleep that he had experienced in a very long time.


End file.
